


Flanoir

by Goron_King_Darunia



Series: Together with Richter [2]
Category: Tales of Symphonia: Dawn of the New World
Genre: M/M, Rating May Change, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-01-03 07:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goron_King_Darunia/pseuds/Goron_King_Darunia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following "Together with Richter".  Richter and Emil, now partners after saving the world, are traveling together to marvel at its restored beauty. While in Flanoir, Richter decides to celebrate Emil's birthday in the most extravagant ways. Expect major fluff and some crack. Rating is subject to change as I add more chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pineapple Snowmen

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to "Together with Richter", so I recommend reading that first. This can also be found on Fanfiction.net and on DeviantART.com. The tags and rating may change as I add more chapters. As far as my stories go, this one's actually pretty tame, so even if you don't like my usual stuff, this one might be worth a read! :D

Flakes of snow fell gently over Emil's surroundings; he was pleased to see the weather had stabilized since his adventure to save the world. When he had first come here with Marta, the skies were eerily clear and the snow was slushy and muddy from seasons of unusually warm weather. Now, it had all returned to the way it should be - the ground was covered in a knee-deep layer of crisp, clean white and the air was filled with the usual painful chill; the sky overhead was filled with grey clouds as thick as the snow below, and the surrounding seas were filled with the hazardous, though beautiful, glacial ice. 

Emil sat on the stoop of the local inn, watching the citizens go about their lives. Most of the men were shoveling a path through the snow, clearing off a narrow section from their porches to the streets, making way for their wives to head into the square to do the day's shopping. Children of various ages were scattered about, playing one game or another in the wintery landscape of the schoolyard and adjacent churchyard. Emil smiled, knowing the advent of a school there was yet another advent of the Lezareno Company; the funding of local schools throughout both Tethe'alla and Sylvarant was only one of their many recent projects. Emil remembered his time at the school in Palmacosta, simpering as he had to remind himself that those memories were not really his own.

Emil Castagnier was just a pseudonym, a name taken on by Ratatosk to protect himself, a name belonging to a boy who was likely dead. But, it was all Emil had, really. He had always felt separate from Ratatosk, the way they thought and felt about the same things was nothing alike, and yet, he couldn't deny the evidence that he was one with Ratatosk. He had two distinct sets of memories, one of being Emil Castagnier and one of being the Summon Spirit Ratatosk, and neither of them felt real to him anymore.

It was a relief in some small way - he wasn't tied down to a persona anymore, he could act on his own feelings now, his own desires, not having to cross-check with memories that were skewed, no longer burdened by pain that he did not deserve. But, on the other hand, it left him feeling a little... empty. He wasn't Emil anymore, and he wasn't Ratatosk (and there was plenty of evidence that - though his body _was_ Aster's - he was not that scientist prodigy from Sybak).  

So, Richter's question the night before had come as quite a shock. "When is your birthday...?" It upset Emil at first, not really being able to answer, since none of his identities were really _his_ anymore, but Richter had comforted him effectively enough. "Since you don't have one, then how about tomorrow? After all... tomorrow will be exactly two years to the date that I first met you." Emil liked that idea. Richter was out at that very moment, buying him presents and setting up reservations for the day. They would be doing more wine tasting, of course, and a couple things Richter was setting up as a surprise, but other than that, the entire day was his. Richter had promised to do anything Emil wanted for the next twenty-four hours, and Emil couldn't wait to spend the entire day showing Richter his favorite things to do around town. Not that he'd spent much time in Flanoir, or knew of many things to do there, but... well, with Richter around, he could do anything at all.

Emil smiled, thinking of the wonderful day he would have with his beloved partner as he watched a young boy and girl in the square rolling a big snow ball and trying to hoist it on top of a pair of larger snowballs. They stood on each other's shoulders, but the snowball was too heavy for them to lift on their own, and Emil quickly ran over when he saw the boy on the bottom of the mini totem pole struggling to pick up the heavy white sphere.

"Be careful! Wouldn't want you to hurt yourselves." Emil smiled cheerfully as he jogged up to the two children. "Building a snowman?" He asked as the girl hopped off the boy's shoulders and stared shyly up at Emil.

"Uh-huh!" The boy nodded. "It's going to be the biggest snowman in the whoooooole world! But we can't get the head on like this..."

"Well, maybe I can help." Emil smiled. He bent over and lifted the over-sized snowball and placed it on the top of the two larger ones, completing the snowman. "Wow! You're right. He _is_ a big snowman." Emil humored the two kids. "But something's missing..."

"Yeah! He needs a face!" The little boy yelled excitedly. "Beth! Bring over the stuff!"

The little girl trotted off to grab a top hat filled with pebbles, twigs, and the classic carrot nose. "Here it is, Calvin! Everything our snowman will need!"

"Hey, could you help us out again, mister?! It would be really nice if you could help us finish him up!"

"Uh, sure! What do you want me to do?" Emil knelt to be eye-level with the two children. 

"Well, it would be kind of hard to try to balance Beth on my shoulders for a long time, so if you would, could you lift me and Beth up so we could put on our snowman's face? At different times of course. After all, you've only got two arms."

"Sure, I could manage that." Emil grinned. "So, what goes on first?"

"Well, he needs two eyes so he can see." Beth pulled two relatively round pebbles of approximately equal size from the hat. "So I'll put those on first."

"Alright, Beth! I'll break up the twigs and get the mouth ready." Calvin cheered.

Emil carefully lifted the little girl up and she placed the pebbles gently into the packed snow. "Those look perfect!" Emil winked as he set Beth down again.

"Alright, I've got the mouth ready!" Calvin skipped over to the two. "All set, mister! Could you give me a boost, please?"

Emil lifted Calvin up as well, and the young boy set the twigs in a gentle upward curve. "Excellent work! He's looking cheery and bright already, just like a good snowman should!" Emil praised. "Alright, what comes next?"

"Now he needs a nose!" Beth held up the carrot. "I'll put it on, okay, Calvin?"

"Right! Then I get to put on his hat."

"Okay!" Emil lifted Beth for the second time, and she enthusiastically pressed the carrot deep into the snow.

"That reminds me of a joke!" Emil giggled. "What did one snowman say to the other snowman?"

"Uh, I give up, mister. What?"

"Smells like carrots." Emil grinned.

The two children roared with laughter; it was an old joke, but it was new to them.

"That was a good one!" Calvin smiled. "Alright, one more boost, mister! I want to put on the hat!" Emil lifted the over-zealous boy and he placed the cap atop the snowman's head. "Tada! He's done!"

"He looks wonderful!" Emil praised the two. "You did a great job!" He gave both children a high-five. "Are you going to name him?"

"He's right, Beth! He should have a name! How about... Frosty?"

"Every snowman's named Frosty, Calvin! He needs a better name than that! You got any ideas, mister?"

"No, sorry." Emil blushed. "Frosty was my only idea, too."

"Uh, how about Mr. Snowman?" Calvin suggested.

"No, no, no, silly! That's too easy! He needs a good name! A _real_ name!"

"How about Walfred?" A familiar voice made Emil turn about eagerly. "Haven't I told you not to talk to strangers, Emil?" Richter chuckled as he walked up, carrying several paper bags filled with all sorts of goodies that were undoubtedly meant for him. 

"Richter!" Emil grinned. "You're back!"

"Miss me much?" The half-elf chuckled as the blond trotted up to him like an eager little puppy, thrilled to see his master after a long wait (which had really only been an hour).

"Just a little." Emil grinned. "They were having some trouble getting the head on. I kind of got recruited after that..."

"I see." Richter dusted some of the snow out of Emil's hair, looking up as the little boy and girl walked up.

"Hey, what was that name you just said, mister?" Calvin asked.

"Walfred? I was just kidding..." Richter blinked self-consciously, wondering why such a ridiculous name interested the two children. 

"Oh, no. Sorry, sir, we were asking him." Beth pointed at Emil.

"Huh? What name did I say?" Emil puzzled over his last few words for a moment. "Y-you mean 'Richter'?"

"Yeah! Richter! That sounds like a cool name, right, Beth?!" Calvin beamed. 

"Uh-huh!" The girl nodded in agreement. "Richter the Snowman, it is!"

Richter looked astonished for a moment then chuckled wryly. He leaned in and whispered in the blond's ear. "They're naming their snowman after me.. there's some cosmic joke in that, isn't there?"

Emil giggled. "Well, you'd make a handsome snowman."

Richter rolled his eyes. " _That's_ what you took from that?" The half-elf shook his head with a weak smile. "The sobering humor in the unfortunate appropriateness of their decision escapes you, doesn't it?"

"No. I just beg to differ. I think you're a very warm person, Richter. You just need a little motivation to show it." Emil snuck his lover a kiss while the kids were focused on writing "Richter" in the snow in front of their creation. The half-elf blushed.

"Hold these for a minute, would you?" He handed the bags to Emil. "And no peeking. We're going back to the room to open those." Emil obeyed, since his furtive glances only revealed layers of colored tissue paper and many gift-shop boxes in the bags.

Richter bent down and gathered a couple handfuls of snow. He pressed them together, creating a nearly egg-shaped oval. He ran a little groove along the top, near the middle, then pulled it back toward the front along the sides. He pressed both index fingers gently in the snow he outlined, then made two L-shaped trails on either side with his thumbs. He set a pair of pebbles and an extra clump of snow before he set down the nearly-perfect snow bunny beside the children's snowman. 

"Wow! That was really neat, mister!" Beth exclaimed. "Calvin, look at the cute little bunny he made!" Both children 'ooh'ed and 'ahh'ed as they ogled the redhead's contribution.

"I didn't know you could do things like that, Richter!" Emil grinned past the half-elf at the little white rabbit. "It's adorable."

"Yeah, that's the only thing I can make out of snow... well, the only thing other than a _snowball_!" The redhead whipped around and chucked a small snowball at the human, who squealed and ducked just in time to avoid the cold, white orb. 

"Hey! No fair! My hands are full!" Emil whined, flicking some snow at his mate with the toe of his shoe.

"Sorry, I wasn't really trying to hit you." Richter simpered, taking the bags back. "So, are we going back to the room to open these, or are you going to play with children all day?" Richter hoisted the bags over his shoulders, tilting his head in the direction of the inn. 

"Okay, I'm coming." Emil nodded. "You kids be careful, now, alright?" Emil called back to the two children.

"We will! Thanks for your help, mister!" Both youngsters waved at the blond, and the blond returned the gesture as he began to follow Richter back to the inn. They were just about to enter when a woman's voice called out to Emil.

"Excuse me! You there, young man!" Emil turned around to see a amply pregnant woman waving in his direction. Emil looked around for anyone who might be the addressee of the woman's calls, but there was no one in her line of sight except for himself and Richter. Emil pointed to himself with a questioning look, wondering if he was really who the woman was looking for. "Yes, you, young man! Come over here a moment, dear!" Emil looked at Richter, who met his eyes with that same bewildered look. The blond shrugged and told Richter to head on up to the room while he went to see what the lady wanted. Richter nodded but promised to return for him if he failed to come back to the room in five minutes.

"Oh, come on Richter, I doubt she wants to kidnap me!" Emil teased.

"Well, maybe not, but the way you've been getting 'recruited' today, you may very well end up being talked into spending your birthday running errands for her!" Richter retorted. "I doubt either of us wants you spending today like that, but you're the kind of person who just can't say 'no'. So, if you get 'recruited' again, I'll come bail you out, alright?"

"'Kay." Emil, blushed, knowing that Richter had a point. The redhead nodded and headed off toward their room while the blond went to see what this woman wanted with him.

"Uh, h-hello, ma'am. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Oh, you've helped me a great deal already, dear! That's why I'm here. Beth and Calvin are my children, you see. Their father is away on business in Meltokio, but they had their hearts set on building that snowman today. Obviously, I'm not really in any shape to help them with that, not with this one on the way." She gestured to her pronounced midriff. "I warned them not to get carried away, but..." She shook her head with a laugh. "Well, they did anyway. I was about to head outside to warn them that they were trying to make it too big, but then the kettle starts a'callin' and by the time I've got it off the fire, you've already stepped in to help them out. I figured the least I could do was thank you myself."

"Oh, it was really no trouble, ma'am..." Emil flushed, grinning sheepishly.

"Maybe not, but it was a great help.  People usually pay children no mind, it's nice to see someone go out of their way to-- ooh...", her breath caught mid-sentence, and her hands immediately went to her motherly bulge. 

"M-ma'am, are you alright?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Conrad just gets a little excited, sometimes." 

"C-Conrad?"

"Mm-hm. In here." She pat her maternally enlarged midsection. "Here, feel." She grabbed one of Emil's hands and placed it on her belly, causing a deep, red blush to flood the boy's cheeks. "He's due in a couple more weeks. Normally, he's a gentle little thing, but he gets so riled up sometimes." Emil nodded, dazed. He could _feel_ it... more than with his hand. There was a familiar, warm, throbbing sensation in the pit of his stomach accompanied by a small voiceless voice in his head. _Is this something you'd want?_ , it asked. _Would you like to be able to do this?_ The question throbbed along with his gut. Did he want this? Was it even possible? No, it couldn't be... could it? But that wasn't the question. The question was: did he _want_ it to be possible? And his answer was 'yes'.

Truth be told, Emil was always rather fond of kids. He wasn't quite sure why. Maybe his false memories of his life as Emil had something to do with it. Whatever the reason, Emil had always had a nurturing instinct that never quite felt fulfilled. Being with Richter had helped calm that urge tremendously, but Emil had always felt that there was something... a little bit _more_...

Oh, sure, he loved traveling and seeing the world, but he didn't plan to wander his whole life. Eventually, he wanted to settle down somewhere, maybe start a family... He hadn't really planned on what that would mean, having a partner of the same sex; maybe adoption, maybe use a surrogate... But now... the implications of this... this _miracle_ , were too wonderful to pass up. He and Richter, having a child _together_... Emil wanted that. Badly. And yet, there was an uncertainty lingering in his heart... This would be a big change. Emil didn't even know what it entailed. Would he become a _woman_ , with all the necessary "parts"? Or a hermaphrodite, perhaps? And what would Richter think of him, then?! Did Richter even want kids...? Was there no turning back if he went through with all this? If he passed up on this offer, would he ever have the chance at this again?

Just as Emil was beginning to give in to panic, a familiar, soothing voice swept over him. _"Emil... I can see your heart is a very frantic color. You are... troubled."_

_Verius?!_ Emil called back, speaking to the Summon Spirit through his heart.

_"You sound surprised. Did you forget what Sheena said? I exist in your heart... in_ all _hearts... And I can tell you're fighting your heart, Emil."_ Verius lilted. _"You needn't worry so much. Indulge your heart. You, like all beings, are free to change your mind. It should only be fair that you be free to change your heart as well. I will help you fulfill your heart's wish, no matter how often it changes. Be at peace..."_

Verius and the voiceless voice within Emil spoke to him in unison. _"Do you want this power?"_

_I... I don't know..._ Emil closed his eyes. He was at a crossroads, caught looking down the paths of two entirely different futures, scared. 

_"It's alright. You don't have to decide, now. You may take your time. Whatever your choice, I assure you, the option will be available when you decide. You are always free to change your mind. When you have decided, you know where to find me..."_

Emil felt Verius' presence fade along with his fears. He trusted Verius. He was glad to have some time to think about what he wanted... for his future with Richter... _Richter_. Remembering what Richter had promised brought Emil back to his senses. He gently removed his hand from the woman's baby-bump, recalling what she had just said moments ago. "Y-yes, he certainly does seem excited. I'm sure he just can't wait to be born, so he can meet his parents and siblings."

"You're probably right!" The woman chuckled. "You're awfully good with children. I bet you took care of younger siblings, didn't you?"

"Oh, n-no, ma'am. I'm an only child." Emil blushed, a little ashamed that he always seemed to default back to a stolen past when asked such things. 

"Really? Such a shame. You'd have made a fine older brother for some lucky child."

"That's kind of you to say, ma'am, but it was nothing, really..." Emil eyed the door behind him, expecting Richter to come walking out any minute to "bail him out".

"Don't be so modest dear, you were really quite helpful! Honestly,  you really are a-- Oh, dear, where are my manners?!" The woman shook her head, noticing Emil's furtive glances at the door. "You have someone waiting for you, don't you? Silly me!" She pulled a small  handkerchief, tied into a loose bundle with a bit of twine, from her apron pocket. "It isn't much, but please, enjoy them with your friend."

Emil untied the little pouch carefully to reveal a few, warm Snickerdoodle cookies. "Oh, no, ma'am. I couldn't possibly--"

"Nonsense! Of course you can! Goodness, you're a modest boy, aren't you? I knew you wouldn't accept money as thanks, but there's certainly no reason not to accept some cookies!" She curled the blond's fingers around the parcel of baked goods. "Take them! Enjoy them! If you don't I'm just going to throw them away~!" She winked at Emil.

"Th-thank you very much, ma'am!" Emil beamed.

"Thank you, too, dear. I hope my children grow up to be as thoughtful and caring as you."

"With a mother like you, I'm sure they will." Emil smiled. "Take care!"

"You, too, dear! And thank your handsome friend for me, too! The snow bunny is quite adorable!" She waved.

"I will!" Emil turned to the door, a goofy looking grin on his red face. Yes, Richter was handsome, and yes, the bunny he made was adorable... but there was just something about that contrast that made Emil's heart dance. It was a side of Richter that he rarely showed, especially to anyone other than Emil. Emil supposed that meant... that Richter was starting to open up again... Richter was hard to approach, with such a rough outward personality, but once you got past that prickly exterior, you found the sweet, wonderful man with a heart of gold that Emil fell in love with. _Kind of like a pineapple..._ Emil giggled hysterically at this thought. Yes, Richter was like a pineapple... And Emil _did_ like pineapples...

Emil calmed himself down, remembering that his beloved "pineapple", Richter, was likely waiting impatiently for him. He folded the handkerchief around the cookies and put them in his pocket. He checked his reflection on the chrome plaque hanging on the inn's door and nervously straightened his hair... He caught himself doing this and immediately wondered _why_ he was so nervous. Richter was his partner, had seen him at his best and at his worst, and yet here he was, fidgeting on the front stoop of an inn like he was getting ready for a first date! Emil immediately dropped his hands to his sides, admonishing himself for dawdling unnecessarily, and very deliberately raised one hand to turn the door knob. 

Before Emil could even lay a finger on the cool brass knob, it turned with a heart-pounding click. Emil jumped, startled, and immediately withdrew his hand as the door opened inward, revealing the familiar mane of soft, red hair that belonged to his darling Richter. "Oh." The half-elf blinked in surprise. "I was just about to come 'rescue' you." He chuckled, standing aside to let the blond in. Emil wiped his shoes hurriedly on the mat in the doorway and stepped, gratefully, into the warmth of the inn. "Everything go alright?" Emil nodded. "You didn't get recruited to babysit for her all day, did you?" Richter muttered, only half-joking. 

"No, of course not." Emil shoved Richter playfully.

"Good, because I made some expensive reservations that we are _not_ going to miss!" Richter laughed, putting his arm around Emil's shoulder. "Now, come on up to the room. Your presents have been waiting." 

Richter seemed almost _excited_ , a highly uncharacteristic emotion for him, as he ushered Emil up the stairs and down the hall to a pair of double doors... but...

"R-Richter? This isn't..." Emil turned, confused, and pointed back down the hall to one of the small, single doors near the stairs. "W-weren't we in Room 103?"

"Huh, were we?" An obviously fake look of bewilderment barely hid the widening grin on the redhead's face. "Because my key says '110-D'." He dangled the key-ring in front of Emil, playfully jangling the key against the little, metal key-fob that indicated what room it was for. "That's just the darndest thing, isn't it?" Richter snorted, obviously having a very difficult time trying to fight the insane look of glee on his face.

"Since when do you say 'darndest'? What's going on...?" Emil cocked an eyebrow, casting the half-elf an incredulous look. 

"Maybe you should open the door and find out?" Richter smirked, placing the key in Emil's hand. The young human glanced at the tag, which did _indeed_ read "Room 110-D", the very same was written on the shiny, gold-colored plaque on either door before him. He shrugged and fit the key into the lock, turned it slowly, then pushed the doors in on a sight he could scarcely believe.

"Happy Birthday, Emil!" Richter grinned, gently shutting the door behind them. "I upgraded us to the deluxe suite. I hope you don't mind." Emil gawked, slack-jawed, at the dazzling room around him. There were deep ceramic planters, painted with beautiful tropical scenes, overflowing with amaryllis, freesia, hyacinth, and lily of the valley. They were so lush and realistic, Emil would never have guessed they were fabric if he hadn't touched them. The roses were real, though... Three crystal vases of three different heights were placed around the room at the most aesthetically pleasant places possible. A short, cylindrical vase filled with a dozen white roses was set upon the vanity, beside the mirror; a taller, rectangular vase filled with a dozen deep, red roses was the centerpiece of a low table, quaintly situated between two plush loveseats, a luxurious sofa, and a darling little fireplace. The third vase, a traditional, flowing, free-form jug shape, was filled to bursting with two dozen roses, half white and half red, drawing the eye toward what was, by far, the most lavish feature of the room. The biggest bed Emil had ever seen in his life sat almost "regally" against the wall at the center of the room. The headboard was carved with delicate floral designs, and upholstered with white cushioning, guiding the eye down to the bounty of white and red pillow cases, wrapped around meticulously placed pairs of pillows, each with their own firmness. The mattress - far beyond king-sized, if that was even possible - was superficially plush, belying a firm, springy core for optimum support. A thick, red, fluffy comforter covered the rest of the bed, practically begging Emil to jump on in and curl up under those snuggly blankets. 

Emil was speechless, darting from one corner of the room to another, "ooh"-ing and "ahh"-ing at every fancy detail. Richter leaned against the door and watched the little human, vaguely amused that the boy was so distracted by the room itself, he hardly noticed the array of presents it contained, exclusively for him. Still, that was one of Emil's charms. The boy was always in awe of the world. He never took anything for granted. Luxuries always impressed him, but he never became tainted with that loathsome quality of expecting the best. He was content to live with the bare essentials, and indulgences such as these were regarded as such - treats, things to be had once in a while, not things to be demanded on a daily basis. 

"Richter! This room is wonderful!" Emil squealed with glee, skipping out of the bathroom after having discovered the spa tub. "You got this room just for me, today?!"

"No, actually... wrong on two counts." Emil frowned at this, wondering why Richter would pull a trick like that. "First..." Richter grinned, hugging the little human from behind. "I'm sleeping here, _too_ , you little nut." Emil smiled and rolled his eyes. "Second," Richter spun the blond around to face him, "it's for _three_ nights."

Emil squealed and leapt into Richter's arms, hugging the older male tightly. "Oh, my gosh, Richter! That's so great! I can't believe it! I-I just... I love you so much, Richter! IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!" The blond kissed him repeatedly, on the forehead, eyebrow, cheek, chin, every inch he could reach.

"Hey, hey, hey! What are you trying to do, drown me in kisses? Enough already!" Richter teased. "If I'm going to get _that_ reaction every time I give you a gift, we're going to be up here for _five_ days!" Richter kissed the boy chastely on the lips, smiling gently. "I'm glad you like it, but why don't you save all that enthusiasm for _after_ you've opened all your gifts, okay?"

Emil nodded, blushing a bit when he realized how carried away he had gotten, completely forgetting all the other wonderful things Richter had gotten him. Richter ushered him over to the table by the fireplace, sitting beside him on the sofa before pulling out the bags he had brought up earlier. 

"Alright, this one first, 'cause I know you've been waiting..." Richter beamed as he held up a little ring-box. Emil opened it excitedly.

"Oh, Richter..." Emil gasped, clasping one hand over his mouth. "It's _beautiful_..." Richter helped Emil take the ring out of the box (the boy's hands were currently shaking too much to be of any use) and slipped it back onto the blond's finger. It was the very same electrum band Richter had given Emil when he proposed, only now, a lovely Turquoise gem had been added. 

"I wasn't really sure about the stone..." Richter simpered, rubbing the marbled, oval gem with his thumb. "I didn't know if you had a preference, so I picked something I thought would bring out your eyes..."

"I should have guessed when you asked to borrow it, earlier..." Emil smiled, nuzzling Richter's shoulder. "I felt so naked without it."

"Ooh..." Richter shuddered.

"Wh-what?"

" _'Naked'_..." Richter repeated with a salacious grin.

"Oh, you!" Emil gave Richter a playful slap on the cheek. "Why do you have to go and make everything sound so _dirty_?"

"Hey, _you_ said it! It's not _my_ fault I have 'gutter mind'..." Richter smirked. "Besides, there's nothing 'dirty' about being naked. We're all _born_ naked, right? Naked is natural..."

"Excuses, excuses." Emil giggled, pinching his mate's nose. "You just want to keep saying 'naked'."

"Guilty." Richter chuckled. "...But you _know_ you like it..."

"Next gift." Emil curled his fingers toward himself, a playfully disapproving look on his face. 

Richter handed him a thick, rectangular package, wrapped in festive green and gold paper. It was fairly heavy and felt solid, so Emil had a pretty good idea of what was in it. "Ooh, I wonder what kind of book it is..." The blond mused, tearing from the corner toward the middle. The paper was discarded to reveal Flanoir's Finest Recipes, one of several cookbooks written by the elusive Wonder Chef. Emil had to hold himself back from engaging in another hug. "Thank you, Richter! I've been wanting to learn a few new recipes!"

"Don't be shy about practicing!" Richter chuckled. "I promise I'll even eat your failures!" The half-elf stroked his stomach, grinning. 

"You wouldn't say that if you knew I could actually _fail_ a recipe." Emil mumbled sheepishly.

"Emil, you could burn dirt, and it would still be delicious." The redhead kissed the little human on the cheek. "Me, I can't serve _sliced bread_ without something going horribly wrong!" The redhead snickered, remembering how badly his first attempt at cooking had gone.

"You're not _that_ bad, Richter..." Emil cooed, "but you definitely need some practice. We should learn these recipes together, that way you can get some practice, too! Okay?"

"Sounds good to me." Richter licked his lips, thinking about all the delicious meals he could help Emil with. He still had no confidence in his skills, but with Emil by his side, he doubted he could fail half as miserably as he would alone.

Next, Emil opened a set of cake pans and cookie cutters. Emil loved baking sweets more than anything else, especially after he discovered Richter's secret weakness for chocolate cake... He had never had the proper accoutrements to make anything beyond a single layer cake, but now... now he could spend a few weekends doing what he did best: making fantastically complicated treats for Richter. Following this trend, Emil's next gift was a new skillet. Richter explained that it had some sort of special non-stick coating just developed in Tethe'alla that Richter thought would be perfect for him to learn with and would make Emil's job as the pair's unofficial chef much easier.

The gifts were already bordering on excessive, and Emil was surprised when Richter pulled out one more bag of goodies for him. "Gosh, Richter... I know you love me and all, but isn't this a bit much?!" Emil giggled, taking the next package that was handed to him.

"Hey, it's _my_ money, I'll spend it how I like!" Richter ruffled the youth's blond tufts. "I have to say, that's got to be the only real benefit of a depression-induced ascetic-mercenary lifestyle... you end up with a lot of money and no desire to spend it."

"Well, that doesn't mean you have to blow it all on me! It's better to have more money than you need than to need more money than you have!"

"Hahaha! True enough, true enough..." The redhead nodded. "Don't worry about it. I've no desire to be broke, trust me... Now that you've gone and got me hopelessly addicted to your cooking, I need to keep a fat wallet in order to support my eating habits, now don't I?" The half-elf pat his belly almost _proudly_... Emil couldn't help but giggle and blush at this gesture.

"I guess so. So, these 'gifts' must be more like an investment to you, huh?" Emil winked, freeing a thin, white gift box from it's silver-and-blue paper wrapping.

"How could you even suggest that?!" Richter pressed his hand to his chest in a flamboyant gesture to match the false indignation in his voice. "It's your birthday! How could you think I, your _loving_ partner, would be so inconsiderate that I would exploit this wonderful day in order to satisfy some ulterior motive?!" The redhead put his arm around Emil's shoulder, giving the boy a gentle squeeze. "In all seriousness, I did put in some consideration of practicality when choosing most of these gifts, and I admit it was much easier to buy things that would benefit us both, but I have a frivolous side, too. I saved the best for last..." The half-elf rested his head against the blond's as Emil opened the small box he had just unwrapped.

Inside was a fine, stainless steel blade with a full tang* through it's comfortably-shaped laminate wood handle. It's gentle curved edge was razor sharp and the flat and spine of the blade were engraved with a very fine design of roses. Just above the _fuller*_ on the left side of the blade, the words "World's Best Chef" were engraved in a lovely, flowing script. On the opposite side, Emil found his name. It was a wonderful chef's knife, and Emil had been needing one.

"That was my initial purchase, actually." Richter explained as the awestruck Emil turned the knife over and over in his hands. "I remember you complaining about how dull yours had become, and after the handle broke last week, I figured you'd want a new one. There's also a paring knife in there..." Richter gestured to the box. "I figured since you didn't have one, I'd buy one while I was there. Then, I kind of got carried away..." Richter blushed. "I started thinking about all the other things you didn't have, and, well..." Richter rubbed the back of his head sheepishly as he gestured to all the cooking supplies Emil had already opened. "When I went to pay and saw how much it all cost, I tried to negotiate a discount, actually..." The redhead snickered. "I told the store owner that I shouldn't even have to pay for the knife set, since it already had your name on it."

Emil gaped and turned to Richter in disbelief. "They seriously had these knives with 'Emil Castagnier' _engraved_ into them just sitting around the store?!"

"No, that part was custom." Richter grinned. "I meant the 'World's Best Chef' part. After all, you _are_ the world's best chef! I argued that since all the knives in there had that on them, they were lucky I was only trying to reclaim a few! Why should I have to pay for something that obviously belongs to you?" Richter nuzzled his mate's cheek fondly. "The fools there had no idea who you were, of course. Made some stupid comment about how that was the Wonder Chef's marketing tagline, now..." Richter turned the now red-faced boy's lips toward his own. "It's so sweet of you to let that bumbling,  second-rate sideshow* take all the credit." The half-elf kissed his young partner lovingly, running his gloved hands through the boy's hair a few moments before releasing his flattered companion's moist lips.

"You know I learned some of my best recipes from the Wonder Chef, right?" Emil simpered, still so modest about his own obvious talent.

"So? You made them _better_. Besides, that puffy-hat-wearing street-magician puts more effort into his half-assed disguises and parlor tricks than his recipes. Have you _ever_ seen the guy cook, even _once_?" Emil admitted that he hadn't. "Exactly. The putz is a traveling cookbook that likes to play dress up and hide-and-go-seek. _You_ are a _true_ chef. No gimmicks, no hat-tricks, no fancy-shmancy showboating. You put your heart into your cooking... _and_ you manage to do such amazing things with food without extra prep or cooking time! I swear, Emil, you can work magic in the kitchen..." 

The blond blushed, kissing Richter in return for the kind comments, knowing that further modesty would only earn him more praise that he was _positive_ he didn't deserve. Sure, Emil was willing to admit he was a decent cook. Compared to Marta and Raine, Emil would gladly admit he had "considerably more experience" to use the nicest words possible. But Emil didn't think he was anything special, really. He felt he was comparable to Regal, Sheena, and maybe Genis - though Genis was two years younger than him, which Emil felt further bolstered the young half-elf's reputation as a good chef. Actually, if Emil was honest with himself, Genis was several _thousand_ years younger than him, considering he was part of Ratatosk before he gained self-awareness... Sure, Ratatosk probably didn't cook much, since Summon Spirits and Centurions have no need or reason to eat, and having to guard the door to the Ginnungagap probably limited the Summon Spirit's real-world, practical experience, but he had a knowledge of the intricate workings of the world, sometimes far more complicated than even Emil could comprehend. But shouldn't that still make him a better chef, understanding the world on such a complex level? Emil felt like it should. And yet, Emil often felt Genis's cooking surpassed his own... Even Collette, who relied almost exclusively on fruit to cook, nearly paralleled Emil when it came to skill. If it wasn't for her occasional clumsiness, and her select ingredient palate, Emil thought that even Collette would make a better chef than he. And yet, in spite of all this self-doubt, Emil knew Richter was honest and sincere. _Even if I'm not the "World's Best Chef",_ Emil thought, _I'm good enough for Richter... and that's good enough for me..._

When the kiss had ended, Richter handed Emil yet another package. "Seriously?! How much stuff did you buy?!" The young human balked.

"Just two more packages after this." Richter smiled.

"And then, on top of that, you made reservations, _and_ you're willing to do _whatever_ else I want, today?!"

"Yeah, that's right." The redhead nodded. "If it makes it easier for you, you can think of this as making up for all the birthdays I've missed in the past."

Emil shook his head, smiling. If Richter had any flaws at all, being too loving was one of them. Sometimes Emil couldn't help but wonder what odd compulsion caused the man to go overboard this way. The redhead was far too fond of doting on Emil for a man with no predictable source of income. Emil honestly wondered where all this money was coming from. If it was anyone else, Emil would have sworn they were caught up in some unsavory dealings with less-than-respectable people. But it _was_ Richter's money, and it _was_ entirely his business where he got it and what he spent it on. And Emil agreed, it was easier to accept, knowing many of these things benefited Richter as well. Banishing his worries and doubts, Emil tore into the newest package to reveal a most unusual gift.

The blond stared at the box for a long moment, both delighted and confused. In his lap was a wooden case with a clear glass door, displaying an array of chisels; angled, straight-edged, flat, U and V-shaped. There were a few thick pencils in the box as well, and some sand-paper of differing coarseness. Emil looked up at his partner, a tearful smile on his face.

In answer to the unspoken question - "Why?" - Richter explained. "I know you have a lot of creative energy, Emil. And I know you get to express a lot of it with your cooking, but... sometimes, it feels like you could be happier if you had a more... 'constructive' outlet for your talents?" Richter quickly realized that what he'd just said could be interpreted as an insult and quickly amended the prior explanation. "I mean, I appreciate the effort you put into everything you cook, but it always feels like such a shame to eat what you make. It's more than just exquisite cuisine, it's art, in every sense! I just thought that maybe... maybe you would want to try a more permanent medium for your art than food, you know?"

Emil wiped his tears away and beamed up at his mate. "Thank you, Richter. I think that's a wonderful idea. I can't wait to use them." Emil meant it, too. So far, Emil felt like he hadn't been all that useful to Richter. Sure, he cooked and cleaned for Richter (despite the lack of permanent residence, Emil still managed weekly chores like laundry and daily chores like washing dishes when he and Richter were out in the wilderness.) But apart from doing those menial chores and his "amorous duties", Emil didn't really do much. Richter was usually the one battling the monsters they encountered, doing most of the damage even in situations where Emil joined in. It was usually Richter who did the shopping in town, Richter who set up camp when traveling, Richter who gathered the firewood, and Richter who took the occasional odd job to make a little extra cash. With this, Emil could contribute to their income, too! The chisel set itself was a wonderful gift; Emil did indeed have plenty of creative energy to expend. But having that chisel set was also a gift in a second sense: it allowed Emil to feel useful, productive, and it was this second aspect that brought Emil the most joy. 

"You're very welcome, Emil. I was hoping you'd like it." Richter cooed as he retrieved the next present from the bag. "Also, I just realized I kind of fibbed. There _are_ only two packages left, but this one is actually two gifts... Oops..." Richter simpered handing the small parcel to the little human. Emil opened it to reveal a small pocket knife and a sharpening stone. "I figured with all the chisels and knives, you'd need a way to keep them sharp. I can teach you how, sometime, if you'd like..." The blond nodded, curiously fiddling with the pocket knife when he discovered there was more to it than a fine blade. "Careful with that. It's sharp." Richter smiled, shifting so that he could reach around the boy, hold him in a loose embrace, and show him all the hidden tricks to his new knife. "It's a multi-tool, as you've probably discovered. It has a lot of useful things." Emil allowed Richter to lean his head on his shoulder as he demonstrated the various tools. "So, first, there's the blade, which you've already found, and next to that is a pair of scissors. Not much use for big things, but they could always come in handy. Next to that, there's a nail file... Honestly, I've never found much use for those things, but maybe you will."

"You always bite yours when you think I'm not looking!" Emil giggled.

"That's what people did before the invention of ' _magical_ nail files'." The half-elf rolled his eyes, obviously finding no practicality in an item with no other purpose than to do a job his teeth already did. 

"Yeah, well, your teeth aren't tools." Richter was about to point out the obvious, but Emil got to it first. "Yes, they're technically tools for eating, but that should be all!" Emil tugged off one of Richter's gloves. "And honestly, your nails deserve better treatment! Look how ragged they are! You know what? From now on, _I'm_ in charge of your nails. No objections!" Emil laughed, filing down the  free margin* of one of Richter's longer nails, leaving a much more appealing, soft, rounded curve to the tip. 

Richter compared it to his other nails, running it across the pad of his thumb to feel the difference. He had to admit, it was much improved compared to the rough edges of his other nails. "Fine." Richter nodded, slipping his glove back on. "Tonight, then. Right now, you've still got one present to 'explore', and one present left to open." Richter finished showing off the other features of the knife, which included a bottle opener, corkscrew, tweezers, a magnifying glass (a removable one at that!), a can opener, pliers, a small wood saw, a sewing needle (which Emil vowed to be _extremely_ careful not to lose), a screwdriver, and a wire stripper (not that Emil knew what he would need the last two for, but Richter seemed to think they were useful.)

"So, one last gift, huh?" Emil smiled as he folded all the tools back into their slots in the knife handle.

"Yes, and I think you'll be glad to find it is the most frivolous of them all..." Richter chuckled wryly as he pulled a large package out of the last bag. It was nearly as large as himself, and Emil almost fainted at the sight of it. "It was a bit on the expensive side, but... I think you deserve it." Richter chuckled, handing the package to the boy.

Emil eagerly slipped off the ribbons and opened the nondescript box, commonly used as a wrapping for clothes. Emil pulled apart the tissue paper within and gasped, eyes overflowing with tears as they froze on the breathtaking gift. It was a full length fur coat. Emil could tell immediately from the color and texture. Black, white, and that icy blue... The coat was made of one-hundred percent Fenrir fur. Emil had met and made pacts with a few on his journey, and a few of the young Wolves he had pacted with grew into Fenrirs as well. He'd know that soft, silky pelt anywhere. The inner lining was mostly the soft black fur of the Fenrir's back while the trim at the edge of the sleeves was the cool blue and white of the thicker fur found on a Fenrir's joints. The neckline was truly the focal point of the coat. The Fenrir's long, soft mane was shaped into a luxurious hood, and whether up over the head or resting on the shoulders, it gave the wearer a fluffy mane of ice-colored fur. The tail was crafted into a belt around the waist of the coat, and the trademark blue claws were blunted and used as buttons. Emil had never seen such haunting beauty before. He hesitantly reached out and lifted the coat from the box, sobbing. "Richter... It's... it's _gorgeous!_ " He threw himself into Richter's arms, tears and kisses flowing freely as he expressed his gratitude.

"I hoped you'd say that. It's definitely your color." Richter grinned. "People were so jealous when I walked out of the store with it. Come on, try it on! Let's see how you look!" Richter tugged Emil to his feet and ushered him over to the mirror. He held the coat up by the shoulders, smiling as his young partner eagerly slipped both arms into the sleeves. He helped fasten the buttons and then stood back, taking in an adorable vision. Emil twirled around, blushing and giggling, eyes still spilling over with dewdrops of happiness. The sleeves and hemline were a bit too long, reaching a couple inches past Emil's fingers and toes, but the boy was far too happy to care. He lifted the collar and rubbed his face in the soft blue fur, and Richter could _swear_ he heard the boy moan...

The next thing Richter knew, the blond had tackled him, forced him up against the wall, and smashed his lips against his own. This surprised the redhead, but he was quick to reciprocate, cupping the blond's face in his hands, then running them over every inch of the boy's frame. The kiss deepened, and Richter could feel the human starting to mess up his hair, twirling it, tugging it. He was pretty sure he knew where this was going, until Emil suddenly stopped. "Th-thank you, Richter... I love it."

Richter, now thoroughly embarrassed by his misinterpretation of the encounter, flushed and replied. "You're quite welcome. As I said, you deserve it. Nothing's too good for you..."

"Can I wear it out, today?" Emil asked with puppy-dog eyes so cute, Richter almost melted.

"Of course you can! It's yours now, after all." Richter said, moving a few strands of stray hair out of his mate's eyes. "Just be careful not to spill any wine on it, okay? I have _no_ idea how you'd get those stains out."

"Right," Emil nodded, skipping to the door, "just make sure I don't get too tipsy, and we should be just fine!"

Richter couldn't help but laugh. "I should be telling you the same! I think we both know _I'm_ the one who's a little 'liberal with the liquor'..." The redhead joined his partner at the door, linking arms with him. "Well, shall we be off?" Richter opened the door gallantly, gesturing for Emil to head through. The blond nodded enthusiastically, and walked with Richter proudly, down the hall, down the stairs, and out into the glistening snow.

###### To be Continued


	2. Apples, Wine, and Tea Sandwiches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richter and Emil walk the snowy streets of Flanoir, visiting booths and sampling wines at the festival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! I'm sorry this chapter took me so long to finish! It's also a tad longer than my usual chapters, but still... I'm hoping to get more writing done this summer, but be patient with me (feedback and general encouragement do me wonders, though! 0w0)  
> This chapter does hint at vorish themes, but I think it's minuscule enough to keep the rating and warnings the same. You could probably read it figuratively if you wanted!  
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I'm going to get back to writing and cleaning and all the other stuff that needs to get done, so I'll leave it at that! Enjoy~

It had been about an hour or so, walking from booth to booth, sampling along the way. There were a variety of wines, though white wines seemed to be most popular. Emil figured it had something to do with the people's love of snow. But, there were plenty of other wines, including champagnes,  red wines, and pinot noirs which Richter seemed to favor. Said redhead was currently offering him a flute of champagne, which Emil took eagerly. "What's this one called?" He asked, taking a sip.

"Montblanc." Richter replied, taking in the aroma before having a taste. "It's a brut variety, named after the dessert. Apparently it has chestnuts in it..." Richter took another sip and smiled. "It's actually quite good, don't you think?"

"Not bad, but I think I preferred the peach champagne..." Emil simpered, swirling the fizzling contents of his glass.

"You would." Richter smiled. "I admit, that wasn't bad for an extra dry variety, but it was a tad too sweet for me." Richter finished the contents of his glass, letting out a satisfied sigh as he handed his flute back to the woman running the booth. "Most of the wines here are a bit too sweet, actually. I prefer the wines in Palmacosta."

"Huh? But I thought you _liked_ sweet..." Emil tilted his head.

"I like my _mead_ sweet, my wine dry, my champagne brut, my vodka chilled with grenadine, and my whiskey in my coffee..."

Emil looked up at Richter, blushing brightly as he fondled the neck of his glass. "And... How do you like _me_?"

Richter's eyes were warm as he smiled back. "Exactly as you are..." The half-elf leaned in, kissing his mate on the cheek. "But especially in my belly~" Richter whispered with a randy smirk, earning an embarrassed squeal and a blush that was several shades darker than the last. The redhead leaned in for another kiss, taking advantage of their proximity to cop a feel of Emil's soft buttocks. This earned an indignant yelp followed by a long stream of giggles.

"Why are you so _naughty_?" The blond gave the older male a gentle, playful slap.

"I practice." Richter chuckled. "You going to finish that?" He gestured to the half-empty glass of Montblanc.

"...No." Emil shook his head, handing the glass to his partner. "It tastes funny to me... I don't really like chestnuts."

"Eh, I never liked 'em much, either..." Richter shrugged, downing the rest of the champagne. "I guess that's one thing we'll never put on a grocery list, then."

"Guess not!" Emil laughed.

"Next booth?"

"Yes, please."

*~*~*~*~*

The pair continued sampling their way down the main street, discussing their favorites at great length. Emil was particularly fond of the "Sweetheart Champagne" - the peach champagne he had mentioned earlier, and an apple wine called "Orchard Whispers". Richter had a soft spot for the elderberry wine "Dark Horse", along with a unique red wine called, of all embarrassing things, "Valentine Affair", which had a rich, dark chocolate flavor to it. They were nearing the end of the street, where the last few booths were set up. However, most of these booths were selling food, much to Emil's delight. He tugged Richter up to a colorful stand where a lot of young children were milling around anxiously, clutching a few coins.

"Alright, youngsters, thank you for your patience." An old, bearded man said, stirring a deep pot with a rich, sticky brown substance bubbling inside. "Now watch carefully. Here comes the 'magic'." The man ladled a few straight lines of the substance onto a fresh layer of snow, right on the table in front of him. He quickly grabbed a few popsicle sticks and rolled them across the surface of the amber streaks, gathering them into sticky little spheres. "Alright, there y'are. Just ten gald a piece. There's one for you, and you, and one for you, dear..." The old man smiled, handing each child one of the candies, collecting the coins in a small tin cup. "Y'all enjoy 'em, y'hear?" The old man waved as the children skipped off happily.

"How 'bout you two?" The old man grinned at Emil and Richter. "Pop's Magic Maple Pops are _pop_ ular with kids of all ages." He ladled out three long lines of what the two had come to realize must be maple syrup. "Even us seventy-some-year-olds." The man winked, rolling the three candies and taking one between his teeth.

Emil looked pleadingly at Richter who rolled his eyes, wondering how the boy could think he'd say 'no' to a mere ten gald per piece. Richter dropped the payment in the old tin cup and handed one of the candies to Emil. "Thank you, kindly. I'm here for the rest of the festival if you're so inclined. You two enjoy yourselves."

Richter nodded and began walking with Emil.

"Mmmm! These are really good, Richter!" Emil smiled, sucking eagerly on his candy.

"Really?" Richter cocked an eyebrow. If Emil liked them, they must be good. Richter rolled the amber candy across his tongue, knees nearly buckling from the wonderful flavor. "Oh, wow, these _are_ good..." the redhead purred.

"Can we get more later?!" Emil asked eagerly.

"Later?! I say we get more _now_!" Richter turned abruptly and trotted back to the stand. "Say, uh, 'Pop'..." the old man cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"You don't need to say it. I know a couple of sweet-tooths when I see 'em." The man chuckled. "How many you want?"

"How many you got?" Richter asked, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

"Hm, I'd say a maybe three dozen of the regular size..." The man said, stirring the pot thoughtfully. "Tell you what, I'll make you some 'king-sized' Maple Pops, and let you have 'em all for just two hundr'd 'n' sev'nty five gald."

"You sure?"

"Course, I'm sure. I can't say 'no' to anyone who loves my candy." The old man laughed, ladling out some long thick lines and carefully rolling them into several large spheres. "Besides, it's not often I get customers who buy in bulk! Gotta reward that patronage, don't you think?"

"If you say so." Richter beamed, placing exactly 275 gald in the little tin cup.

"There you are, eighteen of my finest candies." The old man grinned, handing over a small paper bag with eighteen golf-ball sized maple pops, each wrapped in a small square of parchment-paper to prevent any sticky accidents. "Careful not to keep 'em anywhere too warm, though, or they'll melt mighty fast. And don't eat 'em all at once, y'might get a stomach ache..."

"Thanks for the warning," Richter chuckled, "I'll try to pace myself..."

"Take care, now!" The old man waved as the half-elf jogged back to his mate.

"You, too!" Richter nodded, returning the gesture. Handing another candy to Emil, Richter stuffed a second maple pop into his mouth, practically drooling as that perfect sweetness coated his tongue. It felt almost sinful. "Mmm... I never thought maple could taste _this_ good!"

"You don't like maple?" Emil cocked an eyebrow, secretly hoping the answer was "I don't" so he could have more of the candies to himself.

"Well, _now_ I do!" Richter grinned. "Normally, I hate the stuff they serve with pancakes at most inns, but _this_ is divine..." Richter practically moaned as he let the flavor hypnotize him. "I wonder what makes this kind so different..."

"I think it has more natural flavor..." The blond twisted his lollipop pensively between his lips. "It definitely tastes better than those diner syrups, that's for sure..."

"Can you learn how to make this?" Richter slurred, mouth practically overflowing with saliva, with a drunk-looking smirk on his face.

"I can try!" The young human giggled. "I'll have to ask 'Pop' about the recipe tomorrow, then..." Emil winked, reaching for his mate's hand. "I can't be sure he'll give it to us, but I might be able to figure it out myself if he won't." The blond intertwined his fingers with Richter's, leaning against the redhead's broad shoulder as they continued to walk.

"You could definitely figure it out." Richter smiled. "I know you're talented enough... But recipes are always handy for kitchen-klutzes like me!" They both had a good laugh at this, wandering up to a booth with another irresistible aroma. "Mmmm... this smells like a good booth, huh?"

"You bet your buttonth it'th a good booth!" A little girl with pigtails grinned up at the two males. She was missing both front teeth on top, but the child's expression was charming nonetheless. "My Momma maketh the betht baked appleth in the whole world!"

"The best, huh?" Richter grinned at Emil. "That sounds like it's worth tasting."

"Honey, what have I told you about bragging?" A curly haired woman chided as she walked up to the booth, carrying a fresh batch of sweet-smelling apples.

"But it'th true, Momma!" The little girl beamed, absently tugging on the hem of her jacket.

"Even if it _is_ true, honey, modesty is the best policy." The woman pinched her daughter's cheek softly, a scolding smile on her face. "Now then," she peeled back the foil on the baking pan, revealing a rich, caramel-colored glaze of brown sugar, cinnamon, and glossy melted butter, coating a bounty of apple slices, still steaming in the cold surrounding air. "You gentlemen interested in some piping hot, sweet-as-can-be, baked apples? Two hundred gald per serving." She held up a small, disposable paper box, often used to serve faire foods, to indicate the size of a serving. 

Emil didn't even have time to ask. "Two, please." Richter smiled, handing the woman Four hundred gald. She pocketed the money and picked up a set of tongs, carefully filling each box with eight thick slices. From the look of it, Richter guessed it would equate to about one whole apple, which seemed reasonable. "There you go, gentlemen." The woman smiled, handing each of the males their box and a disposable plastic fork.

"They're altho thuper good with ithe cream!" The pigtailed girl grinned, opening a quart of vanilla ice cream. "Want thome? Only theventy-five gald a thcoop!"

Richter chuckled. "Why not? Here," he handed the girl one hundred and fifty gald, "one for me, and one for him, please."

"Thure thing, mithter! Two thcoopth coming right up!" The little girl gave each a generous scoop, adorable gap-toothed grin still plastered to her face all the while. "Thankth tho much! Come back again, thoon!"

Richter nodded. "Of course!" The half-elf guided Emil over to a nearby bench so they could sit and eat comfortably. It was a cozy spot in a little alcove along a brick retaining wall, bordering a string of properties that overlooked the main square. Several pairs of initials were carved into the wooden back and seat, most of them with a heart around them. Richter grinned, imagining that it had been a "sweetheart spot" for many young couples in the past. It was an ideal location for such things; there was little-to-no foot traffic at this end of the street, and the little nook was deep enough to provide some illusion of privacy.

"How cute." Emil giggled, pointing to one particular set of initials - L. I. + C. B. - between a pair of angel wings. They were fresh, deep cuts, and they looked like they were done by a professional...

"You want to come back later and put ours here?" Richter asked with a smile. It was hard to tell if he was joking or not...

"Y-yeah, maybe." Emil blushed, not knowing if Richter would think it was a stupid idea. _He_ wanted to do it, but he knew Richter wasn't really the kind of person who liked that sort of publicity.

"Alright." The redhead nodded. "We'll come back tonight, then. You can try out your new chisels."

Emil's heart leaped. "O-okay!" His blush deepened as he sat beside his mate, watching as the older male took his first bite.

"Ooh!" Richter gasped, chewing hurriedly with a pained expression on his face. The redhead quickly shoveled a few forkfuls of ice cream into his mouth, sighing as that seemed to soothe him. He looked over at the puzzled expression on his blond partner's face, simpering as he explained. "It's hot..."

"Ah." Emil nodded knowingly. "Thanks for the warning." The blond lopped off a bite of apple, dipping the end into the white mound of sweet ice cream before testing the morsel against his lips. Satisfied that it was not too hot, Emil cheerily bit into the crisp, warm slice of apple, delighting in the mix of flavors that danced across his palate.  "Mmmm... this is so good..."

"Yes, it is." Richter agreed, struggling to get his next bite of apple into his mouth without dripping any of the gooey excess glaze on himself. "Good, but messy... be careful with your coat."

"Mm-hm." Emil blushed. All day, he'd been getting all sorts of looks from people. Most were awestruck, and plenty were envious (though none seemed quite so jealous that they looked ready to attempt theft, especially not after meeting Richter's eyes...) But, Emil kind of enjoyed the attention. He adored his new coat, not just because it was soft, or warm, or beautiful, but because every wide-eyed glance reminded him that Richter bought it for him. Part of him always felt guilty, as though he didn't deserve the tender affections he was given, like he was taking advantage of his lover by not denying these treats. Yet, a greater part of him was grateful for the attention, the _love_ , and he just couldn't get enough. He smiled, thinking about how lucky he was to have someone like Richter in his life, and took another bite of his snack.

Nestled in their little nook, the wintery landscape before them was framed by the stony grey walls around them.  It was a bit like being a fly on the wall. They could watch the world go by before them, without feeling prying eyes upon them. Couples like them walked down the street arm-in-arm, young women laughing with friends, some eating faire foods, some staggering with their favorite tipple; young men, arms slung around each others' shoulders, singing drinking songs at the top of their lungs or walking side-by-side talking about the latest news all passed by. Middle-aged people going about their routines, old couples feeding crumbs to the few sparse birds that remained in the snow-laden land. But what Emil noticed most were the children running cheerfully, carefree through the streets. They didn't need liquor to brighten their mood in the endless grey monotony of snow. It was a winter wonderland to them.  
  
Older children with ice skates hanging from their necks walked too and from the frozen lake, little ones tottering after their parents, catching snowflakes on their tongue. Emil couldn't help but laugh as, right in front of them, a group of kids started an all-out snowball war. White orbs of packed, white snow flew through the air, some of the strays hitting dangerously close to their peaceful cranny in the wall. The laughter filled Emil's heart with joy. Though he could not remember a true childhood, the false memories he carried with him of a life as Emil Castagnier stirred in his heart, giving him a sense of nostalgia, pining to relive days he had never really lived at all.  
  
He found himself thinking back to the possibilities he had been offered. Being able to have kids... _Richter's_ kids. Being able to carry them nine months, to nurture and teach and influence a little life that he had made possible. To watch them grow and live and have a life that he remembered and yet never truly had until now. The desire tugged at visceral parts of him and he yearned deeply for that future, to be a parent, with Richter and raise a child together.  
  
But as the snowball fight calmed and came to a close, Emil found himself thinking of the hang-ups as well. Having children changes a lot in life. As nice as the regenerated and restored world was now, it still had its dangers, and likely always would have dangers. And he was still quite young, as was Richter. They had so much to learn about themselves, the world, life... They were still growing. Of course, Emil knew they didn't have to have a child now, even if he accepted the ability, but he could only wonder. How long would this option really be open to him? And did Richter even want it to be an option? In fact, despite the time they'd spent together, Emil was coming to the realization that they really hadn't discussed future plans. Never anything further ahead than their next trip, nothing nearly so consequential as having kids.  
  
Emil started feeling sick inside again. What if Richter didn't want kids? What if he _hated_ kids? Sure Richter'd been really sweet with Beth and Calvin, but was that only because he was there watching? What if Richter never wanted to settle down? What then? Would they just wander around hoping to come by work every time they arrived at a town? Camping in the wilderness and sleeping under the stars, drifting through the world like a leaf in a stream? It scared him, not knowing how compatible their interests were, not knowing what their future might look like, or even what kind of future they'd want to pursue.  
  
But then, as he looked over to his companion, seeing that rare glow in his cheeks and that smile on his face, his eyes sparkling in a way they only ever sparkled for him, he decided that... for the moment... that didn't matter. They would talk about these things. Sooner or later he would gather the courage to bring these things up. Maybe not today or tomorrow or for weeks, but their future was important to him, and he knew that someday he'd be brave enough to ask these hard questions. But for now... for now he was happy, just being with Richter, having that companionship that he'd desperately wanted for so long. And he knew no matter what the future would bring for them, he wanted to work through it with Richter, for as long as he could. He offered the other a small smile as he continued with his apple, letting his mind wander away from uncertainty and anxiety, focusing on the peaceful lull that now filled the air as a gentle snowfall began once again.

Before long, the pair had finished with their apples and they sat, enjoying a quiet moment in their own private niche. The ambiance must have been getting to Richter, because before Emil even knew what was happening, an arm was around his shoulders, a gloved hand tilting his chin, warm lips pressing up to his, still a bit sticky and sweet. The boy's surprise was only temporary, however; within moments, he was kissing back softly, enjoying such welcome affection.

The redhead's hands meandered down from his shoulders, one settling on his lower back, the other greeting the blond's on his thigh. It was a brief "midnight tryst" sort of moment, but it was enough to make the boy melt. A wisp of a smile settled on the older man's face as he parted from Emil, taking both their empty boxes over to a nearby trash can. Emil caught himself admiring the man's trim silhouette as he walked; he had such a graceful gait, and his coat billowed side-to-side when he moved, following the gentle sway of his hips.

He blushed and covered a broad grin when the half-elf turned around, trying to hide an almost guilty expression. "What're you smiling for?" Richter smirked. "Do I have food on my face, or something?" He absently wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

"N-no... " Emil simpered at having been caught. "You just... make me smile."

"Really?" Richter leaned in, pressing his forehead up to Emil's. The blond nodded, blush deepening. "Good. You make me smile, too." The redhead gave the young human another quick kiss before helping the boy to his feet. "Alright, lead the way." He gestured down the road with a slight bow, following Emil toward another crisp apple scent, wafting from a pub at the end of the street. The unmistakable spicy perfume of cinnamon, cloves, and fresh, tart apples was tantalizing to say the least.

Richter smirked when he saw the sign. "Hard Cider - Half Price This Week!"

"Wow, you know me better than _I_ do!" The half-elf chuckled, getting his wallet ready. He happily paid for two mugs of piping hot cider, taking them over to a small table by the window where Emil had settled down. Many others were enjoying their drinks, and while less private than the little alcove they had left, the atmosphere in the pub was just as nice. It had a charming rustic appeal to it, with the exposed wooden ceiling joists from which the chandelier hung, the buck's head mounted on the wall; the rough, hand-carved furniture that still smelled of pine, and the hand-glazed beer-steins that decorated the mantle over the oversized hearth. The archaic style was cozy and homey. Richter seemed to enjoy it as well.  "Cheers." He grinned, passing the blond his mug, holding up his own.

"Cheers." The blond returned the gesture and they knocked their mugs together with a jubilant clink.

Richter downed his entire mug in a few heavy swallows. "Whooo! That sure warms you up!" He sighed, licking his lips and contemplating whether or not he should get a second drink or wait for Emil to finish and get them both a second drink at once. Emil couldn't help staring at him over the edge of his mug. There was just something inexplicably alluring about the way he did things. The way the man drank his cider was ridiculously captivating... he wanted to watch it again and again... The way his Adam's-apple bobbed up and down with each swallow, like a single wave rising and falling on a sea of tan flesh; the little gasp of breath he took after the final gulp, a sound of complete refreshment; the way his tongue flicked out just past the edge of his lips, with such precise control, gliding over the rosy skin, always left to right, so tempting... It was so much more intoxicating than the cider...

"What?" Richter's voice snapped Emil out of his trance, nearly causing the boy to drop his mug . The boy averted his eyes, blushing and tittering, carefully setting the mug on the table, ashamed that he'd been caught staring _again_.

Richter chuckled, unwrapping a maple pop for himself and offering one to the blond. "You've been pretty distracted today. What's the matter with you? Or _me_ , for that matter? You keep on staring at me..."

Emil took the candy he was offered, blush deepening. "I'm sorry, I can't help it. I just... like looking at you... You're very..." The blond paused, not knowing exactly what to say. He was tempted to use words like "pretty" or "beautiful", but he wasn't sure Richter would appreciate those terms...

"Need an adjective?" The half-elf smirked. "'Scary'? 'Ugly'? 'Boorish'?"

"No, no, none of that!" Emil hid his face in his hands, shaking his head. He wanted to say 'handsome' or 'attractive', but they just didn't sound right in his head...

"Come on, kid. I'm not a mind reader. Just tell me!"

"Y-you're very, uh... v-very..." Emil stuttered. _Come on, you can do it, Emil! Say it, say it! What's the worst that can happen?!_ He mustered all of his courage and...! "Y-you're very... p-pretty..."

Richter's eyes widened. "Come again?" The redhead blinked, astonished. "You think I'm _what_?"

"P-p-pretty..." Emil repeated fearfully, now convinced he'd picked the worst possible word.  Richter raised his eyebrows, as if expecting another word to follow. Nothing else came.

"So... you think I'm... _'pretty'_?"

"Uh-huh..." Emil squeaked, hiding his face in his hands, half-expecting his partner to get upset and start ranting about how "pretty" was a word for _women_ and how he was no such thing. Much to Emil's surprise, this was not what followed.

It started with a breath, then something that sounded like choking, a high pitched squeak, a snort, a snuff, and then laughter; unrestrained, sidesplitting laughter. Emil couldn't believe it. Richter just laughed and laughed and kept on laughing. He had never seen the older male laugh so hard in his life. It got to the point that the redhead was laughing so hard, no sound at all came out; he was just clutching his stomach, tears streaming down his face, convulsing violently, and gasping for breath between fits of silent laughter.  At one point he managed to stop and regain some semblance of sanity, but as soon as he made eye contact with the blond, he dissolved back into manic snickering.

Finally, Richter managed to get a grip on himself. "Oh, Goddess, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed, but... nobody's ever called me 'pretty' before. It was a kind thing to say, Emil. I just never would have expected that particular word..."

"R-really?!" Emil squeaked. "Y-you mean you don't _mind_?"

"Mind? Of course not. Why would I mind?" Richter smiled. "It's a compliment, right?"

"R-right." The blond nodded enthusiastically. "So, uh... what do you think about me?"

"Hm? What do you mean?"

"Well, I think you're pretty, so... what do you think _I_ am?"

"You mean you don't know? Obviously, you're adorable." Richter stated, as though it was a factual truth that governed the entire world. Emil's face turned so red, it could have passed as an excruciating sunburn.

"Y-y-you really think I'm adorable?"

"Do you really think I'm pretty?" Richter arched an eyebrow.

"Of course!"

"Well, there's your answer." The half-elf reached across the table to ruffle Emil's hair. "Now, are you going to finish that, or do I get to drink it?" He gestured to the blond's half-empty mug of cider.

"Huh? Oh, well, if you really want it you can h-have it..." Emil blushed. He had planned on finishing it, but the thought of seeing Richter gulp it down was simply irresistible...

Unfortunately for Emil, Richter had become quite good at reading him; he knew the boy was hiding something, he just couldn't tell what... "Hmmm. I wonder..."

"Eh? W-wonder what?" Emil asked nervously.

"You've been acting kind of funny... Are you not telling me something?"

"N-n-no! I mean, uh, everything is fine... ahahaha..." The blond tried unsuccessfully to reassure his partner, only to have the other question him even more earnestly.

"Are you sure? Because you're usually more talkative. If there's something you want to say or ask, you should."

"Y-yeah, okay..." The young human fidgeted. He wasn't really sure what to do. Part of him really wanted to stay in the pub for a while. It was warm and it smelled nice, the cider was delicious, and he was secretly aching to watch Richter chug another few pints. However, another overwhelming part of him was frozen stiff at the thought of saying that out loud. He glanced to his left, trying to think of something to say just to allay Richter's suspicions when he caught sight of a chalkboard near the bar. Along with the advertisement of discount cider for the duration of the festival, it also advertized several lunch and dinner specials as recommendations to be paired with said cider. Emil lit up instantly. This would be the perfect excuse. "Um, actually, Richter, I was hoping we might grab a bite to eat here."

"Huh? But we just ate..." Richter cocked an eyebrow. "Are you hungry again alrea-- Oh..." Richter traced Emil's line of sight back to the chalkboard and grinned. "I get it now... You want to try the specials, eh?"

"Yeah! I mean, doesn't it just smell really good in here? And, after all, the whole point of us going to the festival was so we could try things, right?"

"Well, that's certainly true." The half-elf smiled. "Alright, what catches your fancy?"

Emil scanned the list of foodstuff. Each entrée sounded more enticing than the last; there was no way he could pick just one... "Oh, they all sound so good... It's going to be hard to pick..."

"Well, then, why pick?" The next thing he knew, Richter was whistling shrilly. "Oi, barkeep! Give us another pint and one of each special to split, please!"

"Eh?! One of each special?!" The bartender balked. "You sure?! The portions here are pretty big, and with _all_ the specials, that's a _lot_ of food, even for two people!"

"So? We'll just get a doggy-bag for what we don't finish." Richter shrugged.

"Well, that'll probably be an awful lot to carry..." The man behind the bar mumbled. "Suit yourself, I guess, long as you can pay for it, I don't much care what you do with it. It'll cost you about 50,000 gald. You still want it?"

Emil winced at the price. It wasn't particularly expensive, but ... "That's a bit pricey for one meal, Richter... Are you sure about this?"

"Don't worry about it." The half-elf winked at the blond. "Yeah, we still want it." He called back to the bartender. "You need the payment up front?"

"That'd be nice."

"Right." The redhead walked over to the bar where two pints sat waiting for him. Riffling through his wallet, he counted out roughly 50,000 gald. "There, that ought to cover everything. If I come up short, you can let me know." Taking a pint in each hand, Richter returned to the table.

"It's sweet of you to indulge me, but you really don't have to." Emil sipped the last of his first pint.

"I know I don't have to, but I want to." Richter smiled. "My money doesn't do me a bit of good unless I can spend it on something I want. And all I want is for you to enjoy your birthday, okay?"

"Y-yeah... although, I'd enjoy it more easily if I didn't have to worry about bankrupting you..." The young human mumbled meekly.

"Does it really bother you that much?" The redhead blinked, perplexed. The blond nodded. "Well that's no good. I was sure I made clear that I intended to keep plenty saved, but if it makes you feel better..." he pulled out his wallet and nudged it toward the younger male, "...then you can be in charge of the money today."

"R-really?! Y-you want _me_ to be in charge of the money?!"

"Sure. That way you can budget it in a way that makes you most comfortable." Richter smiled warmly.

"O-okay!" Emil beamed back, carefully tucking the wallet away in his item pouch where he was sure he wouldn't lose it. "Th-thanks. That makes me feel a lot better."

"I'm glad." The half-elf grinned, sipping his cider.  
  
Emil just sat watching him happily, drinking his own mug of cider as he did.  He really was one of the luckiest guys in the world. His partner was kind, considerate, passionate, level-headed, and very, _very_ easy on the eyes... The blond couldn't help but stare. Richter didn't seem to mind anymore, though, and just stared right back, smiling softly and enjoying the quiet moment.  
  
By the end of their second pint, the first course of their feast arrived. "Sorry for the wait." The barmaid lilted as she set a few large trays on their table. "You two ordered an awful lot. We're going to have to bring it in stages." She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know _how_ you two plan to eat all that. This isn't even a third of it. Good luck, I guess." Richter thanked her and sent her away with payment for another round of cider and, after the barmaid returned with their drinks, he and Emil tucked in.

There was indeed a lot of food to be had; there were three trays with three large plates upon each. For a normal couple, just one plate would probably have made a decent meal. However, Emil and Richter were no normal couple.  "I'll eat whatever you don't." Richter grinned, patting a stomach that Emil knew would get the job done.  Emil bit into the first dish, chicken wings with a honey barbecue glaze. It picked up the sweetness in the cider very well and Emil, after giving a few pieces to Richter, claimed the rest as his own.  
  
Richter chuckled. "Take it easy, Emil. Remember, we still have a lot to go. Don't fill up on the first dish."  
  
Emil grinned, his mouth glistening with the amber-colored sauce. "I think I'll be okay." He winked, patting a stomach which Richter knew was just as powerful as his own. Richter munched on the few wings Emil had given him, going for the plate of darker-glazed wings once he had finished his share. These had a hint of bourbon flavor to them, which picked up the bitter zing of the alcohol in the cider. "I hope you like chicken. I'm betting most of the specials will be chicken, or some other kind of meat."  
  
"That's fine." Emil hummed, sucking some of the glaze off his fingers. "I could probably eat their entire stock." Emil moaned happily,  partaking of the darker, bourbon-glazed wings Richter had started on. "Mmmm... these are so good..."  
  
Richter smiled softly. "Yes, yes they are..." He sipped at his cider, watching his partner eagerly gorging on the next plate of wings. "Eat your fill, Emil." Truth be told, Richter enjoyed watching Emil during moments like these. The blond was so carefree and cheerful, and a secret part of Richter enjoyed watching the boy eat. Even though Emil would never outright admit it, Richter noticed the way Emil looked at him during meals too, saw the spark in his eyes, and he knew Emil felt the same way as he did. But Emil rarely indulged himself like this, always far more occupied with satisfying Richter's needs. Now, in the warmth of the pub, with his new coat draping over the back of the chair, Richter could watch Emil with anticipation and have another outside view of his own powers.  
  
Richter's statement, however, reminded Emil of his reason for ordering the specials. "N-no, you should have some, too. S-sorry if I'm hogging them all." Emil took a few wings from the next plate, nudging the majority of them to Richter. "You eat, too.  I'll feel bad if I make you sit there and just watch me eat."  
  
Richter chuckled and did as he was told, taking a bite out of this third set of wings. They were zesty, coated in some garlic herb sauce with crumbs of parmesan cheese sprinkled on top. "Oh, Goddess..." Richter moaned, chewing slowly to savor the flavors. "These are outstanding."  
  
Emil hurriedly took a bite from his own and discovered what the redhead meant. The savory flavor was an amazing contrast to the sweetness of their cider, and Emil quickly fell in love with this third dish. "'Scuze  me, I think made a mistake. I'm gonna need those back, now." Emil teased, mouth watering as he gestured at the plate of delicious chicken.  
  
"You have to fight me for them." Richter teased back, sucking on the golden glazed breading on the wing between his teeth.  
  
"My birthday, my chicken." Emil sneered, walking his fingers along the plate and pulling it back in his direction.  
  
Richter laughed, snatching a few of the wings before letting Emil take them back. "That's the only bad thing about having such similar tastes... having to share." He smiled warmly at his partner, munching on his portion. "But for you, my darling mate, I would share the world's supply of garlic wings."  
  
"That is the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me." Emil faked a sob, moaning gleefully as he enjoyed his ample helping of the savory chicken. He reached for a platter of red glazed wings next. He was quite surprised by their flavor.  
  
"AAAAAAHAAAAAA!" He barely stifled his wail, confining the pitiful noise to a 5 foot radius of their table. He reached for his cider, chugging both his own and what was left of Richter's to try to kill the flavor,  
  
"Wh-what's the matter, Emil?!" Richter reached across the table to comfort the blond.  
  
"S-s-spicy!" The little human whined, tears welling up as the heat lingered and tingled on his tongue. Richter stopped the nearest barmaid and ordered two glasses of milk along with refills for their cider.  
  
The redhead dabbed up the blond's tears with his napkin, grabbing the hand coated in the spice rub so Emil wouldn't accidentally rub his eyes with it and make things worse. Richter furtively licked the offending mix of spices off Emil's fingers, though the action did not go unnoticed by the barmaid delivering their drinks, who gave them a look of vague disgust before leaving as silently as she had come. Richter rolled his eyes, returning to his task and handing Emil the milk that had been brought. "Drink this. It'll help."

Emil grabbed desperately for the glass he was offered, taking generous gulps of milk, finally feeling the heat dissipate. He panted, relieved, taking over Richter's task of drying his watering eyes. "Th-thanks..."  
  
"Don't mention it." The redhead nodded, patting Emil on the shoulder. "You okay?"  
  
"Y-yeah." The blond sniffled, nudging the plate toward his partner. "You can finish that."  
  
Richter let a hardy laugh, nodding as he took the plate. "For you, I will suffer the wrath of the hot wings. " The half-elf bowed, clutching his chest as if making a grave and noble sacrifice.

The gesture made Emil giggle. "Do you like spicy things?" He asked, moving on to a plate of stuffed mushrooms, which he much preferred.  
  
"Me? I'm a masochist..." Richter snorted, munching on the red-hot chicken. "I love spicy food."  


Emil nodded. "Well, then, you can monopolize anything spicy. I can't handle that." Richter flashed a proud smile. It wasn't all that long ago that Emil would have smiled sheepishly and offered to try to learn to like spicy foods too. It warmed Richter's heart to know that Emil was becoming more independent and assertive.

The mushrooms were divine, filled with melted mozzarella and gruyere, garlic, and crumbly bacon bits and Emil gorged himself on them as Richter finished the unbearably hot chicken. Richter barely got to sample one stuffed mushroom before Emil had devoured the lot. He didn’t mind much, though. Richter reached for the next plate, filled with plain breaded chicken. He took the first bite, making sure Emil wouldn’t be surprised by anything overly spicy, and then divided the food evenly between them. The breading was seasoned with herbs and spices, a familiar blend common to comfort foods. It went extremely well with the macaroni and cheese casserole and the palate-cleansing baked potatoes. They came with all the fixings, and Emil dominated the sour cream and chives with just a bit of shredded cheddar and bacon bits. Richter's were the exact reverse but equally delicious.  
  
The final dish in this set was a plate of onion rings, well seasoned with a variety of dipping sauces. Richter had to test each one to make sure there was nothing in the mix that would be too spicy for Emil. After isolating a single hot sauce in the plethora of choices, he nodded to Emil and they both finished off this last dish of their first course. "Mmmm... I think you can make _anything_ taste good with ranch dressing." Emil hummed, dunking one of the crispy golden rings into the rich white sauce.

"That's true." The redhead nodded in agreement. "But it's _really_ fattening. Of course, we don't really have to worry about that." He winked, dunking his rings alternatively in the hot sauce and mustard, occasionally having a bit of ketchup when the blond wasn't using it.

"I wonder what's next on the menu." Emil wiggled happily in his seat as he munched on his last few onion rings.

"Looks like we're about to find out." The half-elf grinned as the barmaid approached with another three trays, carefully replacing the empty ones on the table.

"Alright boys, round two. Enjoy." She nodded, though Richter did catch her mumbling to herself of her amazement that they'd even finished that much on their own already as she walked away from the table. He did nothing more than snort, however, quickly returning his attention to Emil, who was drooling over their next course.

"Finally something light and fresh." The young human smiled, dividing up the citrine salad equally between the two of them. Iceberg lettuce and spinach made up a majority of the greens, with some arugula thrown in (which Emil had conveniently managed to pick out and put on Richter's plate) with apple slices and orange wedges tossed in. There was a delightful and light pomegranate vinaigrette which Richter drizzled over his portion, letting Emil do the same. The bitterness of the greens, sourness of the dressing, and sweetness of the fruit were the perfect match for the cider, and Emil found himself sipping from his mug just for the taste of it.

The next item on the tray made Richter laugh. "Don't they usually serve these with _tea_?" The redhead mused, picking up a delicate finger-sandwich. He took a bite, discovering that one was filled with cucumber and cream cheese, and the other was filled with mascarpone and watercress. The mildness of the cream cheese brought out the subtler flavors in the cider, particularly the crisp apple flavor, and the peppery watercress picked up on the bitterness of the liquor, making an unusual (but pleasant) segue between food and drink. "Well, not bad, but what a weird thing to serve in a bar." Richter snickered, taking a few more of the tiny sandwiches.  
  
Emil looked at the menu, scanning it and finding a section for teas and cocoas off to the side that listed their sandwiches. The entire section appeared to be a new addition. "Looks like they're expanding from a bar to a gastro-pub with an emphasis on hot beverages." Emil relayed his observations to the redhead. "I think that's pretty cool."

"Yeah. Appealing to a wider audience seems like a good move, especially during a festival, but is kind of... risky." Emil cocked an eyebrow at his partner, wondering what he meant. Richter quickly elaborated. "I mean, it would make sense for something like a restaurant or an inn, but a pub has certain connotations and certain patronage. This place has the classic ambiance of an old-fashioned bar, and the menu lists primarily alcoholic beverages. This place's target customers are adults - mostly men, based on the decor - who want to kick back with the guys for a couple of pints in the evening. Expanding to a gastro-pub would be an explanation, but it looks like they've already done that, given the number of specials they have already. All those new recipes can't have happened at once and too recently. To me, the tea and cocoa seem like some sort of weird side-business. But maybe that's just me..."

Richter paused, watching a woman with short, wavy brown hair sauntering up to the barkeep and planting a kiss on his cheek. "Ah, maybe that's it? Could be her idea. Maybe she's his sweetheart and he's letting her expand the business on a whim?" Richter's eyes met hers, and she smiled, glancing at the table. Upon noticing their food, she whispered something in the barkeep's ear and he blushed. The woman patted him on the back, smiling warmly as she lifted the flip-up countertop and strode out from behind the bar and over to Richter's and Emil's table.

"How are you boys doing?" She spoke in a rich, silky voice. "Everything taste alright?"

"Everything's delicious." Richter answered; Emil nodded in agreement.

"Wonderful!" The brunette beamed, hands resting confidently on her hips. "I see you're trying our new tea sandwiches. What do you think?"

"Not quite what I'd expect at a bar, but a pleasant surprise." The redhead said, seeing no reason not to speak his mind. "The cucumber ones are exceptional. Even with such simple ingredients, they pair well with everything else, and the flavor is really smooth and delicate. We'll have to come back and try the tea sometime."

"Well, you're quite the gourmand, aren't you?" She chuckled. "I'm very pleased to hear you say that, because my husband's been really anxious about the new menu. He's wanted to expand to a gastro-pub for a while now, and I finally gave in." Richter did his best to hide a shocked look. The woman seemed to take no notice of his expression and continued. "He might not show it but he's _really_ happy anytime someone orders from the tea menu. He worked a long time to get those recipes just right. Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for giving his confidence a little boost. I hope you both continue to enjoy your meal." She curtsied. "Oh, and your coat is _gorgeous_ , by the way." She winked at Emil.

"Th-thank you M-Miss... uh..."

"Ah, I should have known you weren't local. My name's Anna. I'm the owner."

"Well, th-thank you Miss Anna. The food's r-really good." Emil blushed.

"And thank _you_ for dining with us. Enjoy the rest of your meals."

Richter blushed, cradling his head in his hands as Anna walked away. "Oh. My. Goddess."

"Wh-what is it, Richter?"

"That was so incredibly sexist of me." The half-elf peeked through his fingers at Emil. "This whole time I was under the assumption that the man at the bar was the owner, and that Anna married into the business when it was the exact opposite. I also assumed that Anna, being a woman, was responsible for the unorthodox tea menu, as soon as she presented an alternative to thinking the man was behind it."

"Well, everybody makes assumptions, Richter." Emil tried to comfort his partner. "You made a mistake and you acknowledged it. It's not that big a deal."

"It _is_ , though. Here I am, married to the cutest little chef in the world, a boy who makes me heart-shaped pancakes and apple roses and bread-bowl-turtle soups and I'm making ignorant assumptions about who can own a business and which menu items are effeminate or not. It's _food_. It doesn't matter who cooks it. But the fact that I see these things as effeminate suggests that I... that I see _you_ as effeminate, and that's not true or right..." Richter buried his face in his hands again.

"Richter... that's..." Emil blushed. "That's really not a problem, Richter. I don't feel that way. You don't treat me any differently than I'd like. You treat me like a capable equal. You fawn over me a bit, sure, but you let me do my own things and always let me dote on you. You're very protective of me, but you also let me fight beside you. You support me, but you also give me the confidence to see that I can support myself if I need to. Richter... you've done absolutely nothing wrong." Emil reached over and caressed his partner's cheek.

Richter sighed, but revealed his face, giving Emil a weak smile. "It feels like I have."

"Hmmm, I'll tell you what. Next time you seem to be making an assumption like that, I'll help you catch yourself and question what the assumption is based on and whether it's warranted. Okay?"

"Okay." Richter nodded.

"Now, come on. Eat up. We have another course coming." The blond grinned, nudging the remaining half of a grilled cheese sandwich Richter's way.


End file.
